


Turn Your Scars Into Stars

by ozmissage



Category: Doctor Who, Lost
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Gen, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-27
Updated: 2010-11-27
Packaged: 2017-10-17 23:32:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/182535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozmissage/pseuds/ozmissage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While out drowning his sorrows at his favorite drinking hole, James has an unexpected encounter with The Doctor and the one and only Donna Noble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turn Your Scars Into Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to hitlikehammers for the beta!

  
The cell phone in James’s pocket rings for the third time and he ignores it as usual, opting instead to tilt his beer back until the last stubborn drops fall out on his waiting tongue. It’s just Cassidy, anyway. She wants him to spend the day with Clem tomorrow and hell, he wants to too, but James knows he won’t be in any condition to play daddy by the time the a.m. rolls around.

He’s a bad father, but he’s a damn good drinker. It’s no wonder, he’s certainly practiced enough. As if to prove his point, he lines up his impressive array of empty bottles and shot glasses and leans back in his chair to survey his handiwork. Three beers, four shots of whiskey; not his best night, not his worst either, but the alcohol is doing the trick, that’s the important part. He’s got that nice, hazy I-don’t-give-a-damn-bout-nothing feeling. He can’t lie, honest man that he is these days: he lives for this feeling.

Unfortunately, alcohol has a second, less desirable effect on him, too. James wearily pushes himself to his feet, knocking over his display in the process sending two bottles clattering to the floor. The waitress shoots him the dirtiest look she can muster and Sawyer flashes his dimples apologetically, an old move. She just shakes her head. _Damn,_ he thinks as he staggers toward the restroom. _I’m getting old._ It’s a good thing he’s a regular.

“We’re getting ready to close,” the waitress calls after him.

“Yeah, yeah,” James mutters.

It’s just late enough for the college crowd to have thinned out. All the young kids have long since moved on to other bars or---more likely---stranger’s bedrooms, leaving the bar to the old-timers swapping war stories and the sad sacks drowning their sorrows. James is just glad there won’t be a line.

As he approaches the restroom, he becomes vaguely aware of a strange whirring sound. He pauses for a moment to press one finger against his ear to make sure the sound isn’t just inside his head (wouldn’t be the first time). The noise only grows louder. Tentatively, James presses his ear against the grimy men’s room door. The sound is beginning to taper off now, but the damage is already done. It reminded him of bright white lights and the damn island and her--- _fuck._ He’s going to need another drink now.

He shoves the door open without bothering to knock; ready to chew out whatever asshole left the water running but the sight in front of him is enough to stop him in his tracks. There’s a very large blue box wedged between the urinals and the sinks. It looks something like a phone booth. James steps forward slowly and squints at the writing on the doors, half expecting Danger Mouse to pop out at any second.

The doors swing open and James steps back quickly, his hand reaching for a gun that hasn’t been tucked in his jeans since he left the island, as a wiry man wearing sneakers with a suit and a buxom redhead waltz into the men’s room.

“What the he---”

“Welcome to 1966, Donna. New York---”

“The proper one, yeah? None of that New, New, New business this time.”

“Yes, the proper one…”

“Hang on, are we in a toilet?”

“Yes, I suppose we are. Well hello there,” the Doctor says brightly as he spots James gaping at them by the door.

“ _Hello_? How the hell…where did you come from?” Sawyer sputters.

“Originally? Gallifrey. Recently? From the phone box. I…we...had a very important call to make. I’m The Doctor, by the way. This is my good friend, Donna Noble.”

James’s eyes narrow at The Doctor. He crosses his arms and leans against the bathroom door, purposely blocking the only exit. He’s drunk. Maybe too drunk, but he’s not stupid.

“Piece of advice, never try to con a con man. There ain’t no phone booth in this bathroom, Marty McFly. Trust me, I’ve spent a lot of time in this bar and I think I would have noticed a giant ass blue box. And besides, I got a peek inside that sucker when you two weirdoes came marching out. It’s bigger on the inside.”

The Doctor smiles and turns his back to James as he stage whispers in Donna’s ear.

“He’s cleverer than he looks,” The Doctor mutters.

James grabs the back of The Doctor’s jacket without thinking and slams him against the tile wall. The Doctor barely winces; instead he cocks his head at James as if he’s examining some sort of new species. This does nothing to improve James’s mood.

“Tell me what the hell is going on,” James orders.

Out of nowhere, he feels a hand on his arm.

“Easy there, Cowboy. We come in peace.”

James turns to face the woman---Donna---with every intention of telling her to get her hand off of him, but she’s smiling at him so patiently that all he can manage to do is release his death grip on The Doctor.

“There we are,” Donna says smoothing The Doctor’s rumpled jacket. She turns back to James and grins.

“Don’t mind him, he doesn’t get out much, or well, he _does_ , but he’s a bit anti-social---”

“I am not---”

“Never really cottoned on to the concept of decorum,” Donna finishes.

The Doctor kicks at a piece of tile petulantly and Donna squeezes his arm.

“Oh, don’t be such a baby.”

James closes his eyes for a moment. He must be hallucinating; either that or he’s finally gone insane. He has to give himself some credit though, at least he has imagination. There’s no other reasonable explanation for two Limeys popping out of a blue box with an inside the size of the Taj Mahal in the middle of the men’s room of his favorite bar at two in the morning.

He opens his eyes again to find The Doctor strolling toward the door with Donna hot on his heels. James puts a hand on the door to hold it shut and The Doctor audibly groans. James doesn’t care. They’re his hallucinations and he’ll be damned if they’re going anywhere until he says so.

“Who are you people?” he asks again.

The Doctor leans his back against the door and shoots a sideways glance toward Donna, who shrugs.

“We’re travelers, let’s leave it at that. Now, we’re very sorry to have interrupted your…personal business… see, I can be polite…but we really must be going. We’re off to see The Beatles!”

James snorts. His hallucinations are crazier than he is.

“The Beatles?”

“Yes.”

“Good luck with that, Doc, The Beatles ain’t exactly looking lively these days.”

“This isn’t 1966?”

Donna throws her hands up in irritation.

“I knew it!”

“It’s 2008.”

“Ah…I must have miscalculated. Still, New York, 2008---there’s plenty for us to do,” The Doctor says.

“Sorry to disappoint you, Hoss, but you’re in Albuquerque,” Sawyer says.

Without warning, Donna smacks The Doctor’s arm. Hard.

“Ow!” he protests.

“Do you even know how to fly that thing? What’s the bloody point of having a time machine if you’re just going to use it to pop one year into the future. And _Albuquerque_? What’s so special about _Albuquerque_?”

“It was a very minor miscalculation, easily fixed.”

“I’ll miscalculate _you_ , spaceman,” Donna says mutinously.

James ignores them both completely, his mind still stuck on “time machine.” He knew that sound was familiar for a reason. While The Doctor and Donna are busy arguing over their travel plans, James inches towards the blue box. He’s barely cracked the door open when The Doctor suddenly appears at his side and slams the door shut again.

“That’s not for you to see,” The Doctor says quietly.

“Says who?”

“Says him,” Donna chimes in. “Listen Cowboy, I know you’ve had a strange night, but let’s not make it any worse. Why don’t we all go out and get a nice drink? We might as well enjoy the exotic flavors of Albuquerque while we’re here.”

“You said this thing’s a time machine,” James says.

The Doctor is staring at James like he can see right through him. He places a hand on James’s shoulder and looks him straight in the eyes.

“You’ve lost someone,” The Doctor says.

“How…”

“I’ve known so very many people, so many you can’t imagine, and I’ve seen loss and pain. I’ve felt it over and over again. It leaves a stain. I know that look in your eye. Whoever you lost, you can’t bring them back.”

James laughs bitterly and shoves The Doctor’s hand away.

“Whatever happened, happened, right, Doc?”

“Something like that.”

For a moment they’re all quiet, so quiet in fact, that the sudden crashing sound from the bar makes them all jump.

“What was that?” Donna asks.

“Probably just a bar fight, people are good and drunk by this time of night.”

“Or,” The Doctor says thoughtfully. “It could be something else.”

He holds his elbow out to Donna, who slips her arm through.

“You too, Cowboy!” The Doctor calls over his shoulder.

“I ain’t holding hands,” James says, but he follows them out anyway.

If James hadn’t already been having a very odd night, the scene in front of him would have been down right bizarre. But, as it was, the sight of six strange creatures of various shapes, sizes, and neon colors sitting around his usual table sipping drinks and laughing was, in fact, _not_ the weirdest thing he had seen in the past twenty minutes.

“WHAT?” Donna shouts.

The aliens turn at the sound of her voice, but their looks of apprehension fade away when they catch sight of The Doctor. The room erupts in a chorus of what James and Donna can only interpret as greetings, because The Doctor waves sheepishly in reply.

“Ah! That explains it,” he says.

“It really doesn’t,” Donna replies.

The Doctor is too busy digging around in his pockets to answer. After a moment, he pulls out a tiny book triumphantly.

“July 14, is it?” he asks James.

James nods.

“See, I didn’t miscalculate. I have a meeting.”

“A meeting? You? What sort of meeting could you possibly have?” Donna asks.

“A meeting of the Inter-Universe Cohabitation Commission. Comes around every century or so. I  
programmed a reminder into The TARDIS ages ago; I can never remember these things. It won’t take long.”

The Doctor moves to leave, but Donna grabs the bottom of his jacket tugging him back.

“Hang on; you’re a member of the Inter-Unverise whats-it---”

“Inter-Universe Cohabitation Commission, yes.”

“And you never mentioned it?”

“It never came up.”

“And you meet in Albuquerque?”

“This time. Last time we were on Anagonia---that was a laugh, Gioux ended up on a table with a lantern on his---”

Donna shakes her head.

“I need a drink. You want to keep me company?”

“Absolutely,” James says.

“You two enjoy yourselves then; I’ll be back in a jiff.”

James and Donna take two seats at the bar, ignoring the cacophony of alien voices behind them. They wait for the waitress to appear, but it soon becomes apparent they’re on their own. Donna slides off her stool and steps behind the bar.

“What can I get for you, Cowboy?”

“It’s James.”

“James, ah, that’s a nice name. Alright then James, pick your poison. And don’t be afraid to ask for something fancy. I worked at a bar in Essex for two summers, I’ve seen it all.”

James smiles. He’s still pretty sure this is all in his head, but he’s glad his subconscious invented Donna. She at least seems sane.

“Whiskey, straight.”

“That’s boring. I’m making you a flirtini.”

“What the hell is that?”

Donna winks and reaches for the vodka.

“You’ll see.”

James watches her mix two drinks with apprehension. He opens his mouth to protest when she pours pineapple juice into their glasses, but thinks better of it. He saw the glare she gave The Doctor earlier. He doesn’t want to be on the receiving end of that thing.

Donna slides one of the drinks towards him and James raises it to her before taking a long sip. Donna does the same.

“That’s disgusting, Red,” James says.

“But effective.”

Donna returns to her seat and takes another sip.

“If you don’t mind me saying, you don’t seem very fazed by all this. I remember when I met The Doctor there was a lot of panic and screaming. Honestly, it was rather traumatic. Are you a take-it-all-in-stride kind of fellow, or is this just a normal day for you? Because if it’s a normal day, I have to know what line of work you’re in.”

James runs a finger around the rim of his flirtini.

“The way I figure, either I’m having one hell of a dream and I’m going to wake up in the alley in a couple of hours anyway, or this is all real, in which case it ain’t all that surprising.”

“Time-traveling aliens aren’t impressive enough for you? Wow, aren’t you the jaded one. Bet you never believed in Father Christmas, either.”

“I’ve time-traveled.”

“What?”

“I spent a few years in the ‘70s a while back. Me and…me and some other people.”

“You have a time machine, too?”

“Didn’t need a machine, I had mystery fucking island.”

Donna downs the rest of her drink and leans over the bar to confiscate a bottle of Whiskey.

“We’ll try it your way this time.”

She takes a swig and hands the bottle to James who follows suit.

“Go on then,” Donna says.

James sighs. He can’t remember the last time he talked about any of this. And the prospect of discussing it tonight while a group of fluorescent aliens and that doctor guy get loaded behind him isn’t exactly appealing.

“It’s not that interesting. Why don’t we talk about you and Doctor Nut Job?”

Donna waves him away.

“I was a temp. He saved me from my alien worshipping fiancé and a giant spiderwoman on my wedding day. Now we travel around in The TARDIS saving people and running for our lives. Mostly running. See? Boring. I want to hear about your island.”

James shakes his head.

“That was a long time ago.”

“Most things in the past are. You really have had a lot to drink, haven’t you?” Donna jokes.

He slams the bottle down harder than he means to and Donna startles.

“Everything alright over there?” The Doctor calls.

“It’s fine,” Donna says.

James looks down to find his hand is shaking, Donna covers it with her own until the trembling stops.

“The person you lost, it happened on your island, didn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“She…he…must have been important to you.”

“ _She_ was. We lived together for three years. Best damn years of my life.”

“What happened?”

“I lost her. There was an accident and I could have stopped it, damn it, but I wasn’t close enough. And she’s dead and gone now and I’m here having a drink with a space woman.”

“I’m not a space woman, Cowboy. I’m from Chiswick.”

James chuckles.

“Sorry, it’s hard to tell these days.”

A chorus of laughter erupts from the table behind them and Donna and James turn just in time to see The Doctor tucking an exceedingly long handkerchief back into his pocket.

“I’m sure it wasn’t your fault,” Donna says softly.

“You don’t know me and you weren’t there, I’d say you’re in no place to make that call.”  
Donna rolls her eyes.

“Fine. You’re a miserable human being. By all means have another drink and wallow some more.”

“Watch it, sweetheart,” James says, his voice dangerously low.

“Hit a nerve, did I? Good. I get the feeling you need a good swift kick in the arse. You loved this woman, right?”

“More than I’ve ever loved anything in my miserable, godforsaken life.”

“And she loved you?”

“Yes.”

“So you think she’d be okay with you drinking your way to oblivion? I mean look at the state of you. You’re clearly a handsome bloke, but who could tell under that mop of hair. Can you even remember the last time you took a shower?”

“Thursday.”

“And today is?”

“Wednesday.”

Donna arches an eyebrow at him.

“Fine. You’ve got a point, but it ain’t that easy. If I could just snap out of it, I would have done it by now.”

“So what’s stopping you?”

“I don’t think she knew,” he says quietly.

“Knew what?”

“How much I loved her.”

Donna opens her mouth, but she’s cut short by the bottle flying past her head. James grabs her wrist tugging her quickly towards the floor as the alien council upends their table. The Doctor backs up slowly until he’s standing in front of Donna and James with his hands in the air.

He shrugs apologetically, before mouthing “get ready to run” to the both of them. Donna slips her hand in James’s and gives it a squeeze.

“Sorry about the misunderstanding, I had no idea the two of you had parted ways, Bioux, never would have brought it up otherwise…well, it’s been a pleasure seeing you all. I look forward to our next meeting!”

The Doctor sprints towards the men’s room door with Donna and James right behind him.

“STOP HIM!” someone bellows.

James turns just in time to see an alien pull the trigger on some sort of complicated looking gun. He shoves Donna roughly through the door, out of harms way and into the Doctor’s arms, but he doesn’t have time to duck inside himself. The blast catches his right arm before the Doctor pulls him to safety.

“Son of a bitch,” James hisses, clutching at the wound. Donna pushes the material away to get a closer look at his quickly blistering skin.

“We have to go,” The Doctor says. “NOW!”

He swings open the doors of The TARDIS and ushers them both inside. James’s knees nearly buckle, but Donna catches him.

“Easy there,” she says. “You get used to it.”

“I knew it was bigger on the inside, but this is fucking insane.”

“Language, Cowboy,” The Doctor says in between flipping levers and turning dials. The room is filled with the same whirring sound from before.

“You might want to hold onto something,” Donna says. The floor begins to shudder and James latches onto the first handle he can find as the ship rattles to life.

After a moment it stops, and The Doctor and Donna collapse to the floor beside the console and dissolve into a fit of giggles. James stares down at them in disbelief.

“What just happened?”

“We made a spectacular getaway,” The Doctor says as he springs to his feet.

“Where are we now?”

The Doctor gestures at the door.

“Open it up and take a look.”

James opens the door a crack and feels all the air leave his lungs. They’re in space. Actual space. He stares out at the infinite blackness and shivers.

“Alright, your time machine is better than ours,” he says.

Donna wraps an arm around his shoulder.

“Not a bad view, is it?”

“It’s beautiful.”

“You saved my life,” she whispers. “Thanks for that.”

“I couldn’t let someone shoot my flirtini-making spacewoman.”

“Still going with the hallucination theory, then?”

“Yep.”

The Doctor clears his throat.

“You did save Donna. And seeing as you’re here now anyway, is there somewhere you’d like to go? The future? The past? I know some lovely planets. It’s just the one trip, mind you, then we’re taking you right back to your bar stool.”

“There is one place,” James says wistfully. “But I really got to pee before we go on any field trips, Doc.”

*

The TARDIS doors open to a familiar sight. At his first glimpse of the jungle, James feels tears pricking the backs of his eyes. For all that he hates this place, the island still feels like home.

“This is a very bad idea,” The Doctor murmurs to Donna.

“He knows the rules. Don’t you, Cowboy?”

“I can’t warn her or tell her where I’m from or leave any messages to myself or the time continuum will collapse,” James says sarcastically.

The Doctor claps a hand on James’s shoulder.

“Don’t make me regret this, okay?”

“I won’t.”

The Doctor nods before dropping to his knees to examine the grass. James thinks he has the attention span of a hyperactive Chihuahua.

“This place is spectacular,” The Doctor says. “I can hear it humming. Donna, can you hear it humming?”

Donna rolls her eyes and flashes James an exasperated smile.

“Go on, before this one starts making out with a tree. We’ll be waiting for you.”

“Just stay out of sight,” James says.

“Will do.”

James makes his way towards the barracks quickly, the well-traveled path still familiar after all of this time. He just hopes The Doctor didn’t miscalculate. The old him should be tucked away on Hydra island helping Roger clean out the dolphin tanks right about now, which means Juliet’s home sick with the flu.

He remembers that morning vividly. She thought it was strange that she was sick in the first place, no one ever got sick on Craphole Island, but she was nauseous and fevery and hopped up on cough syrup by the time he left. He hated leaving her, but they were bringing in new dolphins and he was supposed to supervise. He spent the whole day worrying about her, but when he got back she had said something strange--- _I love you, too_.

They hadn’t said any “I love yous” yet and she was half asleep at the time, so he wrote it off, but now, now he thinks he understands. Whatever happened, happened.

It’s mid-afternoon, so the barracks are quiet, most everyone is still at work or school; too busy doing their own thing to notice James slipping through his back door. He pauses for a moment to listen for Jin or Miles, but the house is quiet.

He finds her on the couch, knees drawn up to her chest, snoring lightly and he can almost swear he feels what’s left of his heart breaking. He thinks about turning around and walking right back to Donna and The Doctor without saying a word. To talk to her, to touch her and not be able to save her---it won’t be enough.

She turns in her sleep and her blanket slips off. James sighs, he can’t leave without saying anything to her. He crosses the room and sinks down to the floor beside her, pulling her blanket back in place as he goes. His fingers brush her cheek and she stirs, but doesn’t wake.

“Juliet,” he whispers. “Can you hear me, Blondie?”

She doesn’t say anything, so he goes on.

“I guess that’s for the best. The Doc says I’m not supposed to tell you about what’s going to happen, but you know me. I don’t take orders very well. I’m going to lose you and it’s going to tear me apart. I ain’t proud of what I am right now, but it’s not my fault…you shouldn’t have left me. You shouldn’t have expected me to keep on going without you.”

James pauses to take a shaky breath.

“We can’t do much about that now. I came here because I need you to know something. I love you. I love you with everything I got and I know I didn’t always show it and I didn’t always say it, but it’s true. And I miss you so much; I wish like hell I could take you with me, but I know I’ve got to go. You and me still have a lot of time left here.”

He leans in and kisses her hot forehead, then her lips. She opens her eyes for a second and he forgets how to breathe.

“James?” she asks.

He smiles.

“It’s me, baby.”

“Go back to work,” she mutters as she turns to bury her face in the pillow. “I’m fine.”

James presses one last kiss to her shoulder.

“Bye, Blondie.”

*

“Are you going to be alright?” Donna asks.

They’re back in the men’s room and James is leaning heavily against the sink as Donna hovers nervously behind him. The Doctor is out in the bar making sure the council has cleared out.

His head is aching and he knows he’s starting to sober up. He’s sure he won’t remember any of this soon. Donna Noble and spaceships and Juliet---it’ll all fade away. Maybe.

“I’m fine,” he says even though it’s not quite true.

“All’s clear,” The Doctor says as he returns. “Guess they got tired of waiting for us to come back. Thank you again, James. Keep putting the salve I gave you on that burn and it’ll clear up in no time. And take care of yourself, alright? Life’s too short. For you lot anyway.”

James shakes The Doctor’s hand.

“It was very strange meeting ya, Doc.”

The minute James lets go of The Doctor’s hand, Donna wraps him in a bone crushing hug.

“She knows,” Donna whispers softly in his ear. “Now you have to get on with things, okay? Promise me you will.”

James kisses her cheek.

“Scout’s honor.”

The Doctor claps his hands together and ushers Donna into The TARDIS.

“Beatles, here we come,” he says happily, already half-way to the console.

“See you around, Cowboy,” Donna says and, with one final wave, she shuts the door.

The whirring begins again and James watches with fascination as the big blue box disappears right in front of his eyes, leaving him alone in the quiet bathroom. He leaves the dark bar without so much as a backward glance and begins to rummage around in his pockets in search of his phone the minute his feet hit the street.

He dials Cassidy’s number and leaves a message.

“Hey Cas, it’s me. I can’t take Clem tomorrow…I screwed up again. But I’ll be by on Saturday. I promise. I know that don’t mean much anymore, but I swear it’s true. I’m done disappointing her. I’ll see you both soon.”

James hangs up and turns his face toward the sky. Whether he wakes up in the morning to find this has all been a weird ass dream or not, he knows he won’t ever look at it the same way again.


End file.
